


Homologous

by picnicsandstars



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Allusion to Jonestown, Gen, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Implied/Referenced Blood, Implied/Referenced Murder, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23616124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picnicsandstars/pseuds/picnicsandstars
Summary: Roman is having a tough time the day after Remus decides to show himself. Virgil knows the feeling.Inspired by this post: https://sidespart.tumblr.com/post/186543838096/aaa-your-art-is-amazing-can-i-ask-for-some-roman
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	Homologous

Roman hadn’t come out of his room.

Normally this would have been noteworthy but hardly worth overreacting to. After all, he was nothing if not temperamental. Depriving the others of his awe-inspiring presence was, in his eyes, the most dramatic way to show his bitterness. He was ever the Gryffindor.

That might have been a comforting thought, but now, in the aftermath of the incident, his absence was the cherry on top. That is, if your ideal ice cream sundae was freezer-burnt and Bertie Bott’s flavored - an indiscernible lump of a thing that nobody was quite ready to dig into.

(That recipe had been Creativity’s specialty, once upon a time.)

Even the thick, gooey scent of cheese omelets wafting up to his room from the mind palace commons did nothing to lure Roman away from his solitude. So the other three sat quietly at the table, staring down at their own eggs.

Five full cartons lay untouched on the counter in the kitchen. “For when he comes down,” Patton explained when Virgil questioned this, before withering under his warning look.

“Haven’t we all entertained  _ him _ enough lately?” Virgil asked, and the desperation in his voice was so potent that Patton didn’t say another word.

The air became tense, filled only by the delicate clinking of forks and knives against plates. Even then, most of that came from Logan’s end of the table. Virgil and Patton’s unwavering concentrations on their breakfasts were far more artificial - as was this whole setup, honestly.

It was Virgil who finally spoke again. “Someone needs to check on him.”

Patton nodded. “I’ll go after breakfast, kiddo. I just wanted to give him a little extra time. He’s still recovering, and he needs his sleep.”

Virgil gave him another look. “Don’t.”

Patton tilted his head. “What?”

“Don’t summon  _ him _ , please,” Virgil whined. “Not right now. I really don’t have the energy.”

Patton frowned and put his hands on his hips. “Now Virgil, I’m surprised at you. Roman had a big fall, and the least we can do is make sure he’s healing.”

“What? No,” Virgil shook his head, “not Roman, I mean -” He paused. “You really don’t know what’s going on here, do you?”

“Patton has a basic knowledge of first aid, actually,” interjected Logan. Patton beamed. “I sterilized the wound last night, but I’m happy to check on its status if it would ease your concerns.” He rose to stand.

Virgil shook his head and stared past Logan in thought. “His head’s fine, guys. That’s not the issue. It’s his brother.”

Patton whipped around to follow his gaze as if the problem Virgil was referring to might have responded to the mere mention of itself. When nothing was there but the wall, he turned back, leaning in towards them. “But he’s been…dealt with, hasn’t he?” he whispered. “I mean, I know I didn’t do a perfect job last night, but I did as much as I could to let up.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Am I still…hurting us?”

“Nonsense. Roman isn’t even affected by any of the intrusive thoughts. His capabilities of imagination are in direct opposition to the Duke’s. Thomas handled last night admirably, for the record, but Roman would be fine regardless of that,” Logan pointed out.

Virgil massaged the bridge of his nose. Now really wasn’t the time for him to have to explain this. He had enough on his mind. “I’m not talking about the Duke’s…colorful imagery. I mean the Duke himself. He’s a part of Roman’s past. Roman obviously thought he would be able to hold him back. That he’d helped Thomas move past that, that he was strong enough to  _ protect _ him from that. Seeing him appear in spite of everything he’s worked towards…” Virgil cleared his throat. “…Well, of course he’s gonna feel like he’s failed.”

Patton and Logan exchanged glances.

“Virgil,” Logan said, in that style of gentleness only he knew how to achieve, “with all due respect to Patton, perhaps you should be the one to check on him.” He turned uncertainly to Patton, who only nodded.

Virgil blinked. “Me? I’m the one who -” He put a hand up to indicate that he needed a moment and took a deep breath. “I mean, why don’t we just send Patton? You know, you’re kind of the guy for…you know, feelings, being Morality and all.” Logan hummed sympathetically.

“Well,” Patton answered hesitantly, “maybe Morality’s not what he needs right now.”

“That’s not -”

“What he needs,” Patton continued, more firmly this time but with the same tender eyes, “is someone who’s not going to judge him so harshly. Someone who understands and has experience with Creativity.”

“You know him as well as I do!”

Patton averted his eyes. “Both halves of Creativity.”

Oh.

Virgil fumbled for words, but none of them seemed to be particularly determined to come out of his throat. Logan raised an eyebrow at him.

“We don’t mean to cause you undue stress, Virgil. However, you seem to be the most familiar with the situation. Someone with the ability to empathize with Roman may be best-equipped to handle him if he is in distress. Given your…experiences,” he said, eyeing him cautiously, “you seem to be our prime candidate.”

Virgil nodded, meeting Logan’s gaze as evenly as he could manage. Wordlessly, he took his almost-untouched dish over to the sink. He looked back over at the table, where Patton and Logan were staring at him, visibly uncomfortable. With one last two-fingered salute and a too-thin glaze over his flurrying expression, he sunk out.

* * *

Because this day had just been too calm and straightforward so far, Remus was hanging off the top of the bunk bed, kicking his feet in the air. Roman was situated on the bottom bunk, earbuds plugged into his iPod (because leave it to Princey to cling to his 2000s pop aesthetic). He was rolled over facing the wall, clearly trying to tune out his brother's nonstop chatter.

“What a visionary! He put all the blenders on display in the middle of a museum and waited for some sadist to turn them on!” Remus was saying, wild gestures pairing nicely with his deranged tone of voice. “And you know what? Some freak did it! It was so bloody that -”

“I’ll be THERE someday-ay! Somehow I’ll be stro-o-o-ong!” Roman interrupted, riffing excessively (and excessively loudly) even for him. He smushed the earbuds tighter into his ears.

Virgil took a step forward, guarded. He aimed his voice at him, still not taking his eyes off Remus. “Roman.”

Remus cut himself off sharply, peered over the bed frame, and caught sight of him. Virgil instinctively tensed when the too-wide smile he knew so well spread across that face. He stared down at him much like a vulture wondering how much longer his prey would hold out.

Roman, meanwhile, was apparently so caught up in his music that he wouldn’t even look up. As he elected to ignore Remus, Virgil’s gaze dropped to him. “Roman,” he tried again, trying to be as loud as he could but mostly just coming off as incredibly urgent.

If that wasn’t enough to get his attention, the dark laughter overhead must have been, because Roman looked up with a start mid-lyric. He quickly removed his earbuds, probably about to say something, but his brother beat him to it.

“Virgey! So nice of you to join the party! Did you get me a present?” Remus dropped down onto the floor, and Virgil covered his ears at the sudden  _ thump _ that ensued.

Remus poured as he edged closer. “Aw man, you never get me anything.” He brightened up. “You know, if you’re looking for suggestions -”

“Give it up, Remus,” Virgil said loudly, cutting him off. “I’m not here for you.”

“Oh come now, Edge Dead Redemption. We haven’t had a good catch-up in years.” He paused. “Well, maybe not ‘Redemption.’ We’ll just have to make do with the ‘Edge’ part.”

“Perfect, because you’re dead to me,” deadpanned Virgil with a sarcastic smile plastered onto his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked! I was just telling my dear brother here about some goldfish that -“

“Stop, stop, stop, look. I don’t have time for this,” he interrupted hotly. Show no weakness - that was the number one rule around Remus. “I need to talk to Roman.”

“Okey dokey!” said Remus, clapping his hands together and making absolutely no move to go anywhere.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Go traumatize Deceit or something. It’s nothing you’d be interested in.”

“Oh, please, I’ve traumatized him plenty before. Andruse Lied Webber’s seen it all at this point. Nothing fazes him anymore,” he whined.

“Oh wow, no kidding?” said Virgil, feigning real interest. “So you’re out of material?”

Remus laughed. “I’ve got plenty of materials! Gears, nails, inverted human corpses…” he counted off. He paused. “Ooh, been a while with showing him those. I really do need to try some new stuff before they expire.

“Alrighty!” he exclaimed, jolting to life like a wind-up toy. “I’m gonna go take a chainsaw to those guys in my basement real quick, so I  _ guess _ you’re off the hook.”

Virgil kept himself from expressing relief. He was too close to risk compromising anything. He only exhaled in disgust as he met Remus’ gaze of chillingly casual scrutiny with his own unrelenting stare. “You done yet? We’ve kind of got stuff to do.”

“Alright, alright,” Remus relented, putting his hands in the air. “Just be careful what you talk about. Because I’m  _ listening _ ,” he whispered with a gleam in his eye.

Virgil flinched and, satisfied with that, he sunk out.

Virgil took a moment to massage the bridge of his nose. He emphatically reminded himself that he needed to focus on Roman right now.

Right, Roman. He looked up at him to find that he had scooted over on his bed.

“Thanks,” Roman said, and that soft tone of voice, stripped barren of all grandeur, told Virgil all he needed to know.

He walked over and plopped down next to him at once, smiling grimly. “Oh, believe me, that wasn’t charity. That was spite towards Deceit for that shit he pulled unleashing him yesterday.” Roman laughed softly, which Virgil took as a good sign. He continued, “He’s gonna have that image in his head for weeks.”

“Absolutely, and it will be glorious. But alas, my brother will be reliving the moment for just as long,” Roman sighed.

“Uh, yeah, about that. Did he take the other night as some big ‘welcome home?’ I didn’t think he hung out around here.”

“He did for a few years right after the schism. Technically he comes here to sleep.”

Virgil snorted. “Since when does Remus sleep?”

“I know, and thank goodness for it. It was a nightmare once upon a time trying to deal with him when he was on his 5 a.m. sugar rush. Like, a literal nightmare.”

“Misuse of literality?” Virgil quipped instinctively.

Roman turned away, looking down. “At least I know what the word means,” he murmured hotly. He glanced towards the spot where his brother had been a moment before. “That’s more than some can say.”

Virgil bit his lip. He was no good with fragile stuff. He was for cracking jokes and quips, keeping problems at bay or calling them out. Fight, flight, or freeze, not fight, flight, or talk about feelings. He wondered for the second time that day why they hadn’t just sent Patton. Hell, even Logan would have had a plan here. Sure, the other two weren’t familiar with the situation firsthand, but it seemed pretty obvious that the last thing needed here was someone like Remus. Someone like him.

When the silence had gone on so long it made him tense, he offered the most barebones conversation starter he could think of. “He sucks, doesn’t he?”

Roman made no indication that he’d heard him, so he kept going. “I mean, he does everything he can to get on your nerves, knows exactly what you hate, tries absolutely every trick he can to make himself the bad guy. And after everything, you can’t even condemn it, because then you’d be -”

He bit his lip, catching himself. His eyes were glassy, like he was gazing into somewhere or sometime very far away. “…throwing stones in glass houses.”

He snapped back to reality when Roman lifted his head. He waited expectantly for him to say something, but instead, the agonizing silence crept back up.

Resigned, Virgil turned to his side and kicked his feet back and forth off the bed. He sighed. They were kind of in the same boat there, huh?

“Obviously, uh. He does it on purpose,” he said, more just musing than anything. “That’s his whole thing, you know? He tries to get to you. Like, of course, you know that in your head, but I’m guessing that doesn’t make it feel any less real.”

Still, Roman said nothing. Virgil pursed his lips. He recognized this from his own adamant silence when Remus struck a particularly personal blow. It was sort of a fear of self-incrimination. It was desperation, however petty, to at least be better than the guy trying to set you off.

“I know you were MIA when we went over this, but I’m supposed to give him leeway now, for Thomas,” he continued. “Just, like, let the thoughts come and then move on. And I guess I can kind of accept whatever he runs through Thomas’ mind, for Thomas’ sake. But with us, it’s more than just ideas. It’s just insult after insult, doing whatever he can to threaten us, or terrify us, or hit us where it hurts. And once in a blue moon, he finds the sore spot.”

Remus knew Virgil’s sore spot all too well - heck, he basically  _ was _ his sore spot. Just his existence served as a reminder of everything he wanted to put behind him. Remus didn’t have to lift a finger to stab him, but he sure loved twisting the knife.

It was so quiet that he could have imagined it, but when his head was turned away in thought, Virgil swore he heard a whimper.

And then, just loud enough for him to confirm that it had really been said, came a very soft “I’m sorry.”

He turned back, surprised. Roman was looking at him regretfully. After a moment, it seemed like he couldn’t take it anymore, and he looked away past him. He looked about to say something more, but he turned his back to him instead.

“You’re sorry?” Virgil repeated incredulously. “ _ You’re _ sorry?  _ I’m _ sorry, remind me again how any of this is your fault?”

Roman’s responded with a sigh that sounded almost disgusted, but Virgil could tell it wasn’t directed at him. If anything, it seemed like he was frustrated with himself. Virgil didn’t get it. His issues weren’t related to Roman at all, so why the sudden apology?

That’s when it clicked.  _ He _ was Roman’s sore spot.

Virgil fiddled with the strings on his jacket as it all came together. He was Remus’ bargaining chip, and why not? Obviously he’d be a skeleton key to all Roman’s insecurities. He was the reason for all this. He was to Roman exactly what Remus was to him, after all, and it wasn’t like he had any defense; he needed to get out of here, he was going to make things worse again, he was going to -

He could practically hear Logan’s advice, muffled somewhere under all those noisy thoughts. With a bit of effort, he singled it out of the cacophony. This was a logical fallacy. A cognitive distortion. He didn’t have time for that. He needed to keep his head on. For Roman’s sake, if nothing else.

So instead, he tried to analyze the situation. Wild, self-deprecating trains of thought like that one were Remus’ number one tactic, at least with Virgil. He loved placing his targets in his shoes, telling them just how similar they were to - oh, no. Nonononono.

Before he knew what he was doing, Virgil’s arms shot out and embraced Roman from behind in a strong but gentle hug. Roman’s shoulders tensed, but once he realized what was happening, he made no other movement. Virgil took this as permission and leaned into him, resting his head near his shoulder blades.

Softly but with as much force as he could muster, Virgil said, “you’re not like him, you know. I’ve never been scared of  _ you. _ ”

Roman whipped around suddenly, causing Virgil to stumble back with a yelp of surprise. His face was a raging battle between frustration and remorse.

“But that’s not true, is it?” he demanded, and Virgil winced at the sudden volume. “I made you the villain from day one. I made you think you were unwanted. I told the embodiment of  _ Anxiety, _ again and again, that I hated him, and expected him to, what, just accept it? I drove you out of our group just as well as  _ he _ once did. I’m the reason you thought you could just - just! - Virgil, I  _ terrified _ you.”

Virgil blinked, not even registering the fact that he was shaking his head in shock. All the anger seemed to drain out of Roman as he held his gaze, and suddenly his pristine, polished face looked very, very tired. When he could bear it no more, he looked away. He breathed out through his nose, an uneasy, incomplete sigh.

“I’m no different than him.”

He began to turn away, but something caught his shoulder. He glanced back and found Virgil holding onto him firmly, shaking his head even more vigorously.

“No. No, you're nothing like him. You’re the opposite of him, Roman. You -” He hesitated, brushing back a few loose strands of hair. “Sure, you made me think I was, uh, unwanted. But you never - you never  _ scared _ me. I’ve always felt safe with you guys. It’s nothing like…like it was back there.”

Roman, whose expression had grown very stoic, simply raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Virgil looked down at his knees.

_ You find what’s making their life difficult… _

“O-okay, every once in a while there were some, uh…” He panicked as Roman’s face sunk back down into despair. “…parallels. But honestly, most of that was your brother’s fault too. He’s the reason I was primed to look for that stuff in the first place.”

“So you saw him in me.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “No! No, no, that’s not what I meant at all. I mean, sometimes, yes, you can be pretty - ”

Roman sighed and glanced sideways at him with a look of apathy to rival his own. “Just get to the point.”

“Right.” Virgil gulped, taking a moment to compile his thoughts. “The point is…the point is that you  _ changed, _ Roman. The Duke knows he’s terrifying. He’s proud of it. He’s going to get worse and worse and he’ll love every single second of it.” He took a deep breath. “But you? I mean, you scared me, you hated me, but you hated me for a reason. It wasn’t because you wanted more power, more victims,  **more -** ”

He slapped a hand over his mouth, shaking his head again. He closed his eyes, almost annoyed, and exhaled slowly through his nose. Roman turned towards him, alarmed. “Virgil, shh, it’s okay. I understand,” he said.

“No, no, you don’t understand. You decided to do what you thought was right. And when you changed your mind on that, you did everything you could to change how you treated me.” He shook his head again. “When Remus changes, he changes for the worse. When you change, you change for the better. You’re everything your brother stands against, Roman,” he insisted. “You always try to be good. You’re the most ‘good’ one here.”

Roman cracked a smile at that, wrapping an arm around him. Virgil wasn’t stupid; he knew the smile didn’t tell the whole story, but he didn’t press. If Roman was okay enough to pretend he was fine, well, it was an average Thursday. The rest would have to come later, once he’d had enough time to recover from the discomfort of the moment.

Virgil put a hand on his shoulder. “He may have been a part of you once, but that’s in the past. We don’t judge you based on what he does, and we don’t think of you as an extension of him. Okay?” he finished.

Roman sighed, gently taking Virgil’s hand in his to remove it from his shoulder. “Alright, alright. But that goes for both of us.”

Virgil blinked at him, then glanced away. “This isn’t about me.”

“You told him, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

The wrinkles in the comforter were suddenly fascinating. Virgil caught and released them between his fingers. “He deserved to know.”

“I’m proud of you, Virgil. That’s no easy feat.”

“Mhm.” He watched intently as the little golden polka dots came up and down through his hands.

“Virgil?”

“You should come down and let the oth- Patton and Logan know you’re okay. They were wondering where you were at breakfast.” He stood up.

Roman stood up with him. “Virgil,” he said firmly.

Virgil looked like he was about to say something, but instead just lowered his shoulders. “What?” he asked. “What do you want me to say?” He hoped Roman wasn’t taking note of just how tired he looked at that moment, but the odds were against him.

“Look, Leonardo diPressing, you’re one of us. We expect Thomas to act like it.”

“You should lower your expectations,” he spat.

“No, you should raise yours. Every side worth listening to is on your team. He just needs some time to realize that before he can sort through the trash heap.”

“Did somebody say Duke?”

Virgil jumped. Roman swore, turning to lock eyes with his brother. “You were just. Here.”

In lieu of a response, Remus pounced onto his bunk bed, carrying with him a human spine that jiggled around like a slinky. He began to drape it over the ladder, mothballs falling from places that it did not seem possible for things to fall out of. A cluster of them congregated around Virgil’s legs and began to jump up at him with little high-pitched shouts.

“Fuck off,” he growled, giving him a warning look. He stepped forward onto the mothballs and dug in his heel. “We’re busy.”

“Aren’t those the best times for me to show up?” he singsonged. His smile grew tenfold as he watched the confidence wither and die from Virgil’s face.

Roman glanced between them and evidently decided to intervene. “What do you want with us?” he asked, locking eye contact with his brother.

Remus grinned wider. “Oh, what  _ don’t _ I want to do with you? Really, Roman, it’s like you have no imagination,” he laughed. He appeared behind Roman and flipped open the top of his brother’s head, revealing a clean-cut hole down past his brain. It fizzed like a soft drink.

“Hello?!” he called down the opening, the sound reverberating around Roman’s head. “Any originality in here?”

Roman elbowed him away, closing the top of his head with as much calmness as he could muster. “Well, I’ve certainly got some ideas -”

“That’s what he said!”

Roman gave him a bemused look and turned to instead address Virgil. “Hits you where it hurts, you said? Brings you down by any means necessary?”

Virgil gave Roman a silent plea to shut up. Remus must have noticed, because he gasped in delight, somehow behind Virgil now. “Ooh, you mean like torture methods? Is that what you two sadists are on about? Oh goodie! It’s been forever since we bounced ideas off one another.” He summoned a paddleball and began to bounce it forcefully off Roman’s cheek. Roman stood there, deadpan, for several seconds. Finally, Remus rolled his eyes and threw the paddle at Roman’s face. It hit the ground with a sound akin to cracking bones.

“You’re no funnn, Roman,” he sighed. An eerie-big smile gleaming in the light, he spun around to confront his other victim. “At least Verg-igo here knows what I’m talking about! If you want to talk about hitting where it hurts, someone’s on a streak!” He lay down in front of Virgil and put his face on his hands. “How many times have you told Thomas he sucked in the past week? I mean, don’t get me wrong, he can suck as much as he wants, but talk about hypocrisy!”

In his surprise, Virgil couldn’t hide how much that one resonated with him. He curled himself tighter into a ball and pressed backward against the bed frame, retreating into his hoodie.

That was when Roman butted in, hands on his hips. “Sorry, what was that about hypocrisy?”

Remus cackled. “Oh,  _ I _ don’t give two shits about your disgusting little ‘good and bad’ system! I own it!” He shrugged. “Not my fault Virgil decided to start giving a damn about light blue-balls and his goodie-two-shoes cult.”

Roman pointed a finger down at Remus triumphantly. “And that’s what changed,” he said, turning to Virgil.

Virgil didn’t get it, but Remus seemed for a second to think he’d made a mistake because he began to speak very quickly. “Uh, and! And, he likes Kool-Aid!” he added loudly. “I mean, come on! Every good cult leader has to like Kool-Aid, right?”

Roman ignored him, now directing all of his attention towards Virgil. “Remus is proud to be this bad. That’s what you said, right?” Virgil nodded. “But you weren’t okay with that. You changed for the better, deliberately. You started listening to what we had to say. You stopped trying to spook us to get your message across and started trying to actually help us. You’ve been trying to protect Thomas from them ever since they showed up, and you’ve taken responsibility for who you used to be. That’s not how a dark side would act.” Virgil narrowed his eyes microscopically, so Roman elaborated. “Oh, ‘one of the others,’ a bad guy, a villain, an antagonist, whatever you want to call it. That isn’t you.”

Virgil looked at him suspiciously. After a moment he pulled down his hoodie slightly, eyes softening. He swallowed, carefully choosing his words to respond -

“Bitch, he still wants to scare you. He just got worse at it!” Remus laughed, abandoning Virgil again as he drew steadily nearer to Roman. “And ‘taken responsibility?’ Come on, even you can’t be that naïve. Try protecting someone from that serpent while living a lie. I mean, he hasn’t even told him who he really is!”

A quiet, raspy voice muffled by clothing and his own nerves, spoke from behind Remus. He whipped around immediately. Virgil had sat up and was looking straight at him with apprehensive anger.

Remus let the moment linger for dramatic effect. You could hear a pin drop. “What was that?” he asked in a honeyed tone.

“I did,” said Virgil more clearly. “I told him.”

Remus, for once, seemed to be at a loss for words. After what seemed like an eternity, he said, “you’re lying.”

Virgil chuckled dryly. “You don’t see your best friend coming to back me up, do you? Cat’s out of the bag, Remus. Thomas knows.”

Remus stared at him with a calculating gaze that was a struggle to hold. Slowly, a smile crept up his face. “And how’s that going for you?” he purred.

Virgil met his smile with a smirk of his own. “Well, right now, it’s going real great.” He stood up from the bed and took a step forward. “Because however he takes it, I told him the truth. And Deceit is never going to have power over me again.”

“This is a mistake,” said Remus, the irony gone from his voice. “He’ll hate you.”

“Maybe,” he conceded with a shrug. “But I have a feeling he’ll hate you more.” He took another step forward, and Remus stepped back.

Roman joined him in pressing in on Remus. His voice rose steadily as he approached. “Virgil changed. We’ve all changed, for better or worse. Virgil and I have been doing everything we are capable of in order to help him. And if you honestly think you can control either of us by saying we’re trying to hurt him -” He turned to Virgil with a grin. “How would you describe that, Virgil?”

“Hmm, I dunno, Roman,” he drawled sarcastically, though his eyes were locked on the Duke. “I think I’d call it something like…throwing stones in glass houses.”

Remus whistled. “Well, well, well! Someone’s salty. Where’d that come from, old wounds?” When both of them remained pissed and unresponsive, he sighed. “I just don’t get you guys. You’re so boring now that you’re ‘adults’ or whatever. Trust me, I know what ‘adult’ looks like, and it's sooo much more interesting than you. Where’s all that fun we used to have? The wild fantasies, the thrilling nightmare fuel - those were the height of imagination!” He flicked his hand at Virgil, then Roman in turn. “And then you had to wander off into your little safe space, and you had to split and start thinking about whatever the fuck it is that you think about, and now you’re not even up for a chat about ‘Helena.’”

Slightly confused but refusing to rise to the bait, Virgil crossed his arms. “We knew where we were wanted and went with the flow. Clearly, that’s another key difference.”

Remus drew back, feigning hurt. “Not wanted?  _ Moi? _ Don’t be ridiculous, you guys liiike me. You’re just ashamed to admit it. But I get it,” he smiled. He put his hands up in defeat, stepping back until he was against the wall, and turned his attention to Roman. “Nobody wants to be seen with lil’ old me. ‘Not wanted,’ though -” He tilted his head mechanically towards Virgil - “well, that’s a funny way of saying it. Well, stick around, Loom and Gloom. That title is allllll yours from here on out.”

Virgil grimaced. By the time he had opened his mouth to spit out a seething retort, Remus had already started to sink out. He fluttered his fingers in a wave infuriating enough to match his sly, self-righteous face. “Toooooodllles,” he singsonged brightly, and then he was gone.

Virgil smacked his lips. Roman made a face. “I don’t like him,” they both murmured at the same time. Virgil cracked a smile, which caused Roman to huff out his amusement, and soon they were given refuge from the tension by a good, awkward laugh.

But of course, the laughter soon died down and was replaced with the emotional aftermath of the confrontation. The smiles melted off their faces as silence filled the room, locking them into an uncomfortable staring contest. It was Virgil who broke both the silence and eye contact. “We seriously should get to breakfast, or those two are gonna come up after me.”

Roman nodded solemnly and came over to him. He took his hand gently, and Virgil glanced up at him. “Hey,” Roman said. “It’s gonna be okay. If we can get through this confusion, then so can Thomas, okay?”

Virgil hesitated for a moment. A flicker of doubt illuminated his face, but it was vanquished a moment later as he returned the soft expression. If Roman could survive whatever he had gone through all those years ago during the schism, who was he to worry about a little temporary judgment? (At least, he was pretty sure it was temporary, despite what instinct told him.)

And besides, he had an ally in all this. Not only that, someone who had been through something jarringly similar to what he had been through. It was at that moment that he realized Patton and Logan had absolutely orchestrated them coming to this conclusion. Okay, maybe he had a few allies.

“Virgil?” Roman prompted, and he nodded out of his trance. He began to sink down, hand-in-hand with Roman, to face breakfast and Logan and Patton and whatever else the day was to bring. If he could take Remus, he could take them. All he needed was some backup.

“Yeah, okay,” he sighed. “And that goes two ways, okay?”

“Okay.”

The two reappeared in the dining room to find Patton whistling a tune in the other room, bent over the sink as he scrubbed the dishes from breakfast. On their opposite side, Logan sat on the couch, absorbed in the newspaper sprawled out in front of him.

Virgil’s heart rate quickened at once realizing that they’d be expecting an explanation. He hoped they wouldn’t find anything wrong with the way he’d dealt with things. Because that would just give them one more reason to distrust him, and then Thomas would distrust him, and then -

His heart must have pulsed right out of his hand, or else there was some other method of Roman noticing his nerves. Whatever the case, Virgil’s hand was now being held a little firmer, a little closer to reality, and that was enough to ground him. Right, he had just faced Remus. Facing his friends was the least of his concerns.

He turned to Roman, and they nodded to one another simultaneously. Fierce determination shone in both of their gazes, a conversation that echoed between them. The pact wasn’t just for this moment; it would carry into every moment after, every event that called their goodness into question. These challenges would be vast and terrifying. Virgil was unsure if he’d be able to face them head-on on his own, or if he’d cower away from them as he had last time. But he didn’t have to think about that any longer.

They were in this together.

**Author's Note:**

> So glad to finally get this out in the open! Can’t thank my betas (https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarShine and https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystfairy/pseuds/amethystfairy) enough for giving me so much feedback on this one and driving me to edit and edit until it was something I was proud of. And of course, thank you to sidespart on Tumblr for letting me use your post as inspiration!


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